


Swear Jar

by Sonzaishinai



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Again, Banter, Dumb suggestions, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, M/M, OOC, Out of Character, Vine reference, another where Superman crushes on Wayne AU, rushed ending, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:26:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonzaishinai/pseuds/Sonzaishinai
Summary: Bruce thought nothing of Superman beyond a menacing alien who had ulterior motives until a discovery sets everything off course.Superman, the perfect specimen- the epitome of strength and beauty- has a crush on Bruce fucking Wayne.Meanwhile, the batfamily has a swear jar, and all proceeds go to Alfred's vacationing experience because he is getting too old to deal with Bruce's romantic shenanigans.





	Swear Jar

**Author's Note:**

> Posted something to Tumblr abt an AU along the same lines of my summary and got inspired after sleepytarotcat added onto it. Enjoy. Sorry for the rushed ending. I'm busy asf. Idgaf about beta reading anymore.

“No fucking way.”

 

“YES way, and I have PROOF, Bruce.”

 

Said man cringed at his adopted son. “No- No fucking way on this fucking hell of an Earth, Timothy Drake-Wayne, can you convince me that Superman- SUPERMAN- has a  _ crush  _ on Brucie Wayne. It can’t be done.”

 

“That’s three hundred into the swear jar, Master Bruce,” Alfred states, a smirk playing at his lips as he collected the bills that Bruce reluctantly shoves at him.

 

“Well then you’re gonna have a field day because I investigated Clark Kent’s computer just like you asked me and, I’m telling you,” Tim gesticulated wildly for emphasis, “he has a FOLDER of shit about you. There is no way you won’t believe Superman has a crush on you after you see it!” Quickly, he shuffled out his wallet and took out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to Alfred.

 

“Vacation looks promising this season,” the Butler muttered.

 

“No- You have to had planted it all- Timothy you will REMOVE those photos off of Superman’s personal devices right this instant!”

 

“What photos?” Dick piped up, speeding dangerously down the stairs in the wake of gossip, Jason on his heels.

 

“Yeah, old man, what photos?”

 

Giddy, Tim took out his laptop from under his arm and began pulling up several files and screenshots. “THESE-!”

 

-and revealed a screen full of images of none other than their adoptive father in the nude or sharply dressed, a wide variety taken off of digital magazines and legitimate ones alike.

 

“Holy shit-”

 

“Oh my god-”

 

“TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE!”

 

“I swear to Wonder Woman’s gods, Bruce, I did NOT plant these and if you rEMOVE THEM, SUPERMAN WILL BE DEVASTATED-”

 

“GOOD!!” He made a move to grab the laptop only to be thwarted by the gathering of his children.

 

Frustrated, he ground his teeth and turned back to the Batcomputer, picking up his coffee mug and instead deciding that ignoring them is his best course of action. Only, they didn’t make it easy.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK!!! IS THAT-” Jason gasped. “IT IS!! THAT PHOTO IS FROM YEARS AGO!! BRUCE HE HAS PHOTOS OF YOU THAT WERE TAKEN  _ BEFORE I DIED-” _

 

Dick shrieked. “LOOK, THIS ONE’S FROM THE TIME BRUCE GOT CAUGHT SKINNY-DIPPING AT GOTHAM BAY-” Bruce spat out his coffee to the ground beside him- “I THOUGHT YOU PURGED THAT PHOTO OFF THE ENTIRETY OF THE INTERNET!!!”

 

“Father, you got caught doing  _ what _ ???” Oh god, not another one. “Grayson!! Todd!! Let me look at that accursed device!!”

 

Immediately, everyone rushed at it-

 

“Oh, no no no, not for another ten years-” 

 

“You aren’t laying a finger on my-” 

 

“THERE IS NOTHING TO SEE HERE, LITTLE D-” 

 

“Not if I have a say in things-”

 

The boys turned to Bruce. “You don’t,” they all said in unison before bickering amongst themselves again. Damian, because he was being left out, and the others, because that’s just how they are.

 

Offhandedly, Alfred, yet again, muttered, “I hope the lot of you are keeping track of your contributions to the swear jar…”

 

Unamused, Bruce grimaced, pinching his brow with his index finger and thumb. There was no way Superman had a crush on his airheaded alter ego, and even if he did, there’s no way it was as bad as the boys have been inflating it to be.

 

Who even had a crush on Brucie Wayne these days? A playboy’s got his stamina, but it isn’t infinite!

 

Grumbling to himself, Bruce set about working on his reports again. Seriously, there’s no way in ludicrous hell that someone on that degree of perfection and immensity could have feelings for richer than god, idiot Wayne. No way.

 

* * *

 

“Kal fucking El.”

 

“I can explain, Batman.”

 

Bruce glared at the man through his cowl’s lenses, raising his brow in anticipation of the explanation.

 

Kal lasted five seconds. “I can’t explain.”

 

Bruce’s scowl deepened. Thank fuck for the lead shielding on his cowl, but seriously. This was ridiculous. “You can’t explain to me why you have clippings of Bruce Wayne taped to the insides of your locker, nor can you explain the ridiculous  _ stash- _ ” he pointed at the horrendous pile of magazines shoved into the bottom of the locker “-of  _ special edition magazines _ containing exclusive Bruce Wayne photos stored in it?”

 

Kal opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again with aggressiveness and curiosity in his eyes. “Okay, first off, why are you getting so riled up by Bruce Wayne material, and second, how do  _ you  _ know that those magazines are special edition? Are you jerking it off to the same images, is that it-”

 

“OKAY, I did NOT need to know THAT, KAL WHAT IN THE CHRIST ALMIGHTY- OF THE SEVEN BILLION PEOPLE ON THIS FUCKING PLANET- JESUS- BRUCE FUCKING WAYNE, KAL?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” To emphasize his point, Bruce made an attempt at shaking the alien’s shoulders. He refused to budge.

 

“YES, BRUCE WAYNE!! Y’KNOW, FOR A RESIDENT OF GOTHAM, YOUR KNOWLEDGE ON THE GUY IS REAL SHALLOW, BATMAN-”

 

“EXCUSE ME?!”

 

“YOU HEARD ME-”   
  


“WHY ARE YOU GETTING SO DEFENSIVE OVER WAYNE?! AND WHAT THE HELL DO YOU-”

 

“I’M GETTING DEFENSIVE BECAUSE YOU THINK MY ROMANTIC TASTE IS SHIT-”

 

“KAL THE GUY ISN’T EVEN ATTRACTIVE- HE’S SO GENERIC LOOKING, I COULD GAG-”   
  


Sticking his head out, vein in his forehead throbbing and face flustered, Kal pointed at himself sternly. “WELL HE IS VERY GORGEOUS  _ TO ME _ -!”

 

-and then he burst out laughing uncontrollably, dissolving into hysterics.

 

Looking put out, Bruce just stared at the Kryptonian whose face was wet with tears now, listening as his earpiece rung.

 

“Did he just…” Jason.

 

“Yes… yes he did…” Dick.

 

In his fit, Kal risked a glance back at the dumbstruck Bat and then lost his shit all over again.

 

“Y-Your-” he wheezed breathlessly “-Your face!! I- HAHAH!! I CAN’T!!”

 

Completely lost on how to react, Bruce left the room, Superman’s guffaws in his wake.

 

* * *

“Let’s just say, hypothetically-”

 

“No.”

 

“You haven’t even heard my scenario yet, Bruce,” Dick whined.

 

Bruce swivelled to his eldest adoptive son. “I don’t need to hear it to know it’s stupid, Dick,” he grumbled, staring down the 24-year-old munching down on a bowl of horrifically sweet cereal.

 

“Yah,” he started, bits flying out of his mouth as he chewed, “but it could work. Ya never know.”

 

Sighing, Bruce turned back to his computer.

 

“C’mon, Bruce, stop being such a weenie! You’re just jealous that Superman jerks it off to your dumb alter ego and not Batman-”

 

“-and that is EXACTLY why I REFUSE to walk up to him and KISS HIM during this god forsaken Gala, Dick.”

 

Dick gasped as if betrayed. “How did you know?” and Bruce just stared back at him over his shoulder in return until the boy backed down.

 

Lazily rolling off, he groaned, “Seriously, though, it can’t be that bad to just tell him you’re Bruce Wayne. Y’know, maybe tell him a secret code word you only use when you’re in costume?”

 

“I refuse to encourage Superman’s fantasies to fornicate with my dimwitted self.”

 

“It’s not encouraging fantasies if you’re bringing them to life- oof!”

 

“Quit it, Dickie Bird, the old man won’t do shit unless you force him and god knows how much fucking-”

 

“-swear jar-”

 

“-energy that’s gonna take.”

 

Bruce softly smiled. “See, even J-”

 

“However,” the 19 year old grinned mischievously, “I’d like to know how far the big blue boob, as you call him, would take it if you made advances.”

 

“I hate all of you.”

 

“We love you too, dad.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Mr. Wayne! A pleasure to meet you,” Kal shook hands with the billionaire. “I’ve heard a lot about you, I must say.”

 

Bruce laughed, recognizably empty to all who really knew him. “Likely not many good things, but it’s nice to know I’m getting some recognition here,” he said, the plastered on smile getting awkward and starting to hurt. “Apologies for taking your time, Superman. Surely, you have more important priorities to get on with tonight.”

 

The man, ever so polite but slightly reddening by the second shook his head at Bruce, stating, “No worries, Mr. Wayne. I can monitor all of Earth from here and I assure you, there’s nothing all that important that needs my attention at the moment.”

 

Bruce hummed before an awkward silence took reign between the two and they tried their best to avoid eye contact.

 

In the silence, Bruce thought back to earlier, and the nights before. Admittedly, his kids were right. There was no permanently keeping his identity secret from Superman. He didn’t know how he was to bring up his identity without it being awkward though.

 

Quaint, the billionaire looked about the room, noting the large concentration of people in multiple areas. Perfect. The Man of Steel will have to keep his reaction quiet if he told it here.

 

Bruce tugged on Kal’s cape lightly, catching his attention. “Clark,” he whispered almost inaudibly and felt the air around him tense, “banana muffin.”   
  


For a second, Bruce watched as the eyes above him were blank, as if there was no thought behind him, and then there was the ever so miniscule expansion that indicated realization and Clark’s lips pursed.

 

Watching for any signs that the man would have an outburst, Bruce continued staring, noting the tensing and untensing of the jaw, something that told of a want to speak if not for hesitation.

 

Then, “Mr. Wayne, do you mind bringing me up to one of the upstairs rooms. I’d like to have a chat with you.”

 

Bruce felt a pit settle into his stomach. This wasn’t looking good but, regardless, Bruce nodded and guided his friend, possibly enemy now.

 

Once they had a door shut behind them, the chitter chatter of the ballroom long faded and no one around to surveil them, Clark sighed. “Well,” he chuckled nervously, “this is awkward.”

 

Bruce nodded. “So…”

 

Clicking his tongue, Clark responded back, “Yeaaah… Fuck first, talk later?”

 

“Very uncharacteristic of you,” Bruce acknowledged, “but sure.”

 

Before he could blink, soft lips were aggressively pressing down on his own, drawing out a groan from Bruce’s throat when the scrumptious mouth moved on to suckle at a sensitive spot in his neck that he never knew he had.

 

Without warning, then, the static of Bruce’s comm turned on, altering both participants.

 

“Swear Jar, Mister Kent,” came Alfred’s voice, turning both men flushed red with embarrassment before the sound of the comms completely disconnecting sounded.

 

The rest of the night went interrupted.

 

By morning, though, Bruce was shoving an ungodly amount of hundred dollar bills into Alfred’s swear jar for the night before, and one measly one hundred dollar bill from Clark earned the very man a death stare from Bruce, who stood rubbing his backside.


End file.
